


Fire Emblem: Three Houses Imagines

by Iced Coffee and Imagines (TheTimeTellingRaven)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Injury, Medical Trauma, Miscarriage, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-18 20:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimeTellingRaven/pseuds/Iced%20Coffee%20and%20Imagines
Summary: A collection of Three Houses imagines.Rating subject to change.





	1. Hubert von Vestra/f!Reader - Miscarriage

**Author's Note:**

> Some major self-indulgent Hubert angst. Prepare for the sads, yo.

  * Hubert was at the Imperial palace for business purposes, leaving you at the Vestra estate.
  * It was meant to be a short trip, no more than two weeks time; he was due to return home in four days, even
  * He was surprised, needless to say, when a letter arrived for him
  * The seal was that of House Vestra, but the writing…was not yours
  * It was the midwife’s, detailing the situation: you had miscarried, without symptom or warning
  * She had gone specifically against your orders to write him, you knowing how busy he would be with post-war rebuilding
  * It had been two days since the child’s passing; you were taking lithium and laudanum both to settle your pain; you were not eating, hardly sleeping
  * Hubert felt his heart drop; the child? _their_ child? Gone?
  * He stood and cast the damned letter into the fire, running a gloved hand through his hair; should he return home? stay? explain to the Emperor and request leave?
  * He sighed through his nose. _Composure, silence, façade_; no one could know, no one even knew that you were pregnant in the first place, save him

———

  * Edelgard knew something was wrong with her retainer; he could not hide anything from her, with how long they had known each other
  * She cornered him after the next council meeting
  * Hubert explained the situation; the Emperor gave him immediate dismissal without question or room for rebuttal; her expression was soft, sympathetic
  * “Give the countess my best wishes for her health; and my condolences to you both, Hubert”
  * She stopped him as he turned to leave
  * “Oh, and, Hubert”
  * “Yes, my lady?”
  * “Visit Linhardt before you go; he may have something to help her”
  * “Thank you, Lady Edelgard”

———

  * Linhardt gave Hubert a tonic for your health and wished you as quick a recovery as may be
  * Hubert simply nodded in thanks and left; their sympathy, though seemingly genuine, had worn his patience thin

———

  * Hubert’s mind was reeling on the ride to the manor; _How could this have happened? What could’ve been done differently? What could **he** have done differently?_
  * The great black stud beneath him tossed his head as he galloped, sensing his master’s discomfort
  * The estate was quiet when he arrived home; somber, as though his family’s silent tragedy had changed the very air of the place
  * He walked softly through the manor; for so tall a man, he left little trace of his movements
  * He found you lying in your shared bed chambers, facing away from the door, from him, and toward the curtained windows
  * Hubert stripped himself of his cloak, outer coat, and gloves; he did not need them, not right now
  * His heart, so closely kept, broke at the sight of you; for as much as he hurt, he could not fathom how you must be feeling
  * He laid his discarded garments on a chair nearby before approaching the bed
  * You did not acknowledge him—could not—even as he sat on the edge of the bed next to you and removed his boots and cufflinks
  * You knew he was there, of course; you knew the second he walked into the room
  * You fought back tears, bringing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs you felt creeping at your throat
  * You felt his hand against you then, sifting through your hair and over the shell of your ear
  * Hubert sighed through his nose, leaning down onto one forearm behind you, shielding your smaller frame
  * His hand traveled from your head, down your neck and shoulder, and came to rest on your upper arm; he was cold, his grip gentle but firm and calloused from years of war, but most welcome
  * He leaned his forehead above your ear, letting his gold eyes fall closed
  * He did not even realize he was crying until he felt the ebony hair over his right eye become damp
  * Him? Crying? It unnerved him, but he did not move to acknowledge it
  * You felt it, though, and slightly leaned back against his chest; a silent approval,_ “It’s alright to feel grief, love”_
  * Hubert moved, softly pressed a kiss below your ear, and resettled his head where it had been previously against yours
  * Neither of you spoke, neither of you needed to; what could you say?
  * He was never one for condolences or words of sympathy, anyhow; nothing would change what had happened, and no words would suffice in lessening your pain

———

  * Eventually you shifted, finally turning to face him
  * No portrait of any sorrowful maiden could compare to the shattered expression your face wore
  * His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb stroked the tears still gathered from the corners of your eyes; you still would not look at him
  * Hubert let his forehead rest against yours, brows furrowed as he studied your visage before letting his own eyes close
  * You felt his legs tangle with yours, anchoring you, grounding you
  * You still did not speak to each other; what good would words do when neither had the answer?
  * But, you did have each other; and though it would take time to heal, both physically and mentally, you knew that he would be at your side, always


	2. Randolph von Bergliez/f!Reader - Why Love a Man Who Can't Protect You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot bunnies. That’s all, that’s the only explanation I have for this self-indulgent mess. And Randolph having next to no content; I love this sweetheart so much
> 
> Also intimate moments/partners taking care of each other/war injuries/trauma all make me weak, so I couldn’t resist
> 
> And, yes, I am still working on everyone’s requests; I just…love him…a lot…he deserves the world
> 
> ((Plot context, slight spoilers?, canon-divergent, probably OoC? >>still hasn’t finished any route oop-<<: Crimson Flower route; he lives, but his sustained injuries force him to retire))
> 
> ((this is really just a bunch of headcanon bull because I highly doubt he would be happy about being physically unable to protect his family, and yes I did spend two days writing this))
> 
> ~Latte ♡

  * The soft sing of a razor against skin was the only sound in the bedchamber; the air was still, the afternoon sunlight warm, peeking through the floor-to-ceiling windows
  * You were perched on your husband’s left leg, facing him; you gingerly slid the blade along his jawline, removing what bit of stubble he had, your gaze soft but focused. You stopped occasionally to rinse the straightedge in the basin sitting nearby before continuing
  * Randolph’s redwood eyes were closed, his left arm draped loosely around your waist; his right rested atop the armrest
  * You placed two fingers under his chin; he complied, tilting his head back against the plush chair to give you access to his neck, swallowing as he did so
  * The cold scrape of metal against his skin was something he had felt many times over the years, but never had it been so gentle; his hold on your hip tightened a fraction
  * You gave a closed smile in response, cocking your head to the side as you maneuvered the razor over the contours of his throat, being careful not to cut him
  * You rinsed the blade one final time, drying it and setting it quietly against the table, and grabbed a warm, damp cloth in its stead, ringing it of excess water before tenderly dabbing the man’s cheeks, jaw, and neck
  * He sighed through his nose, both in contentment and slight frustration; if that gods-damned mage had not hit him, had not partially taken the use of his right hand, he would not be letting you do this. _It was not your job to take care of him like this; he was still young, still strong; he had many more years of fighting left in him  
_
  * You placed a few drops of cologne into your palm, the sweet, earthy scent exposing itself as you gently rubbed the soothing oil into your husband’s pale skin, the cool metal of your wedding band brushing against him every so often
  * Finished, you wiped your hands clean before returning them to either side of his face; you leaned forward to press a kiss to his brow, your eyes closing as you rested your forehead against his
  * Randolph’s eyes opened halfway as he pulled you closer, tilting his head up to brush his nose against yours. He slowly brought his damaged hand to your jaw; he could barely feel your skin under his
  * Through the years you had been together, your kindness had never diminished, nor had your love for him; in fact, he swore your devotion increased once he returned home, broken and a fraction of the man he was when he left; it both sickened him–_How could he protect his wife, his sister, his mother_ _now?_–and humbled him to find you so loyal
  * He squeezed his ruddy eyes shut again, brow furrowing against yours
  * Not a minute later, the sandy blond pulled his head back, right hand dropping to rest on your thigh, callouses catching on the soft fabric you wore; opening his eyes again, he turned his head toward the window, expression brooding, jaw set
  * You leaned back, eyes opening slowly as your fingertips traced down his neck to his chest, mindful of the scars that so often hurt him: one on his right shoulder, one across his ribs–_the one that almost took him away from you_
  * You studied the Imperial veteran for a moment. His service had shaped him, changed him, aged him: long gone were the soft lines of boyhood in his face and build, in their place the strong profile and the solid frame of a man; his eyes were sobered, reserved, often tired; his grip was firm, heavily calloused from countless battles; his mind and body were scarred, memories of war forever etched into flesh and psyche
  * His most prominent pains, you had noted, were the wounds that had forced him to retire from the front lines only a few months earlier: his shoulder, a thunder spell causing partial numbness in his dominant hand and arm; his right hip, an arrow lodging into the joint and leaving him with a limp that he desperately tried to hide; and his torso, the blade nearly ending his life
  * You trailed one hand back up to his nape, fingers running through his short hair; your other smoothed over the fabric of his shirt
  * **“What plagues you, love?”** You whispered; his was an expression you had seen many times since his return, though he had yet to tell you what caused it
  * His russet eyes flicked to you briefly, ghost of a smile crossing his face, **“Nothing you need trouble yourself with.” **He never liked the idea of shouldering another with his problems  
****
  * You sighed softly, your fingers continuing to card through his ash blond locks; the other hand slowly raised to touch his cheek, turning his head toward you
  * His gaze met yours, storm finding paradise
  * You bit your lip, taking a deep breath to steel yourself; you tried again, **“Randolph–”**
  * **“Don’t.”** He interrupted; he glanced away, **“It’s not important”**
  * Both of your hands cradled his jaw then, **“You wouldn’t be this quiet if it wasn’t worth something”**
  * A dry chuckle left him as his other arm slowly wrapped around your waist, left hand locking around his right wrist; he pulled you against him, your chest flush to his
  * You felt the muscles in his neck tense under your palms; his gaze searched yours for what felt like hours, but for what you did not know
  * Randolph shook his head, eyes again sliding shut. His grip tightened, still strong in spite of his injuries
  * Your right hand trailed down to rub his left shoulder, coaxing the blond to look at you; you tipped your forehead to meet his
  * His voice, usually so cheerful, even after his resignation, was low, brittle, **“How can you love me?”**
  * You chose to let him continue; your hands stilled, waiting, silently begging him to look at you
  * When he did, your breath caught in your throat; he swallowed thickly, ruddy gaze shimmering with _so much pain_, **“How can you love a man who can’t protect you? Why? Why stand by me?”** His tone grew harsh as he spoke, teeth gritted, **“Why bother with this? With us? With a shattered soldier who can’t _exist_ without pain dogging at his heels?”**
  * He hissed as he leaned forward, a slight wince crossing his features as he pressed further into you, nose brushing yours
  * **“You deserve far better than the life I can give you”**
  * His whisper startled you more than him yelling ever could; you shivered; _where had your breath gone?_
  * He pulled his head away from you, turning his attention again to the window; his grip on your waist loosened, a sad smile finding him as he straightened against the backrest once more, forearms resting on the arms of the chair; he expected you to leave him then and there, it seemed
  * You sat motionless, trying to regain a foothold over your thoughts; your gaze fell to your empty hands, still frozen in place from where Randolph had been previously
  * You inhaled shakily, your fingers finding the ring on your left hand, toying with it; you echoed, **“Why do I stay with you, love you, despite everything?”**
  * He hummed in affirmation, propping his chin on his left hand, sunlight catching the silver band he wore
  * You mused, gaze shifting between his wedding ring and yours
  * Finally, you spoke, hint of a smile on your lips, **“Because you, my darling husband, are my best friend. You have stood by me through everything, leaving only when the Empire called you. You are loving, faithful, devoted to protecting those you hold dear,”** you gingerly traced near the large scar across his rib cage then. Your gaze met his, adoration finding awe, **“…even at the cost of your life. What reason have I to abandon you, to not love you?”**
  * He gaped for a moment, conflict flitting across his visage
  * Collecting himself, he cleared his throat, baritone soft, **“Even knowing that you will essentially be a servant for the rest of our days?”**
  * You stayed silent and instead reached for his right hand, searching his face for permission; once he nodded, you gently took the damaged appendage in your smaller hands, softly kissing the heel of his palm, one of the few places he had feeling
  * You did not miss the hitch of Randolph’s breathing as he stiffly turned his hand to catch yours, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles, his left moving to hold your wrist
  * **“Then know how much I love you, cherish you. I would do anything to see you happy. And, should war ever find our doorstep, know that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, my beloved”**

**Author's Note:**

> Want a request? Want to chat? Come visit me on tumblr! @iced-coffee-and-imagines


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